


Cooking It Up

by pleasesir



Category: Tank Girl (1995), Tank Girl - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Dating, F/F, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 11:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasesir/pseuds/pleasesir
Summary: “I just love hearing you say my name in that cute lil accent,” Tank Girl’s resting her elbows over Jet Girl’s head and leaning in close to grin at her, smile sharp as a knife. Her lips are red red red, impossibly so, and Jet Girl still has no idea where she gets her lipstick.





	Cooking It Up

“I just love hearing you say my name in that cute lil accent,” Tank Girl’s resting her elbows over Jet Girl’s head and leaning in close to grin at her, smile sharp as a knife. Her lips are red red red, impossibly so, and Jet Girl still has no idea where she gets her lipstick. 

 

She licks her own lips, dry and chapped as they always are, and wishes she was just a few inches taller so TG couldn’t loom like that all the time. She also wishes she didn’t like it so much. “I…um…Tank Girl…” 

TG grins and sways back, out of Jet Girl’s space so she can stand straight again, frowning, and fix her hat where it’s gone askew. With the way TG is still staring down at her, Jet Girl feels like any one of the very unfortunate Water & Power stooges who get in TG’s way and go down under a hail of bullets or a nasty kick. Not that she thinks TG would do that to her. Probably. Without reason, anyway.

TG’s not as crazy or violent as she seems. She loves children and little animals although she’s also, Jet Girl has learned, capable of slitting a man’s throat with the razor blade she keeps in her boot. Jet Girl’s just thankful that TG’s on their side, every crazy, unpredictable, beautiful piece of her. Even when she’s inciting the kangaroos to mischief or pretending to be asleep when it’s her turn for latrine duty. 

Jet Girl can’t help but smile now, pushing her glasses up her nose. The dust baths they all take, and the constant sweating, makes it difficult to keep her glasses on at the best of times.

“What’d you want anyway, kid?” TG asks, slouching. She’s a professional sloucher, and right now she’s managed to sit her narrow butt on the only windowsill in the corridor they’re standing in, light streaming in behind her, her legs stretched out to plant her feet on either side of Jet Girl’s hips so she’s pinned there. 

Today TG’s wearing cutoff denim shorts over fishnet thigh highs, ripped at the knee from past fights. The shorts, Jet Girl can’t help but notice, are a little loose on TG, exposing a pale inner thigh, and perhaps the very beginning of what could be her hip… Jet Girl flushes and looks away, unsure how to deal with the heat twisting in her stomach.

When she was growing up, she had to focus more on staying alive than getting to know people, and once she started with Water & Power it was just work all the time, so she never. Well. She never really got the chance to be intimate with someone. Which wasn’t much of a problem until she met TG, who touches her all the time, and kisses her cheek with sticky red lips, and forces her way into Jet Girl’s space like she can’t imagine being unwelcome. Which she isn’t. Unwelcome. She’s very welcome. Very. 

Jet Girl peers down at the skinny legs on either side of her waist, at the blonde hairs she can see under the fishnets, and firmly wraps her hands around TG’s ankles. She’s warm like the desert in midday. “I really just wanted…well…”

Truth be told, she had seen TG and wanted to talk to her, calling her name before she could think of a reason to do so. TG had come running over, and now Jet Girl’s pinned like a fly under TG’s wide blue eyes which are not nearly so innocent as she likes to seem. TG narrows her eyebrows, removes her ever present matchstick from her mouth, and scratches at a scab near her forehead. She uses the matchstick to gesture at Jet Girl. “So you’re tellin’ me, you took time outta my busy day of killing people and stealing things and having all sorts of adventures, just to call me over here for no reason?”

Jet Girl can feel the blush stealing over her cheeks, turning her blotchy. She got so used to working for Water & Power, being just a cog in the system, that she has no idea what to do with herself now she has a little freedom. It sometimes seems like she can’t help but mess up. “Uh, you see, I, well…yes,” she finally admits, waiting for TG to push her away and stomp off.

Instead, TG laughs, putting her matchstick back in her mouth and nearly swallowing it. Jet Girl wonders if TG knows how the sun in the tips of her hair lights it up gold, making her look faded and almost unreal if Jet Girl didn’t still have a grip on her sturdy ankles. “I’m just messing with you, baby, jeez!” 

Jet Girl’s blush, which had begun to go away, returns with force, all the way to the tips of her ears as she mouths _baby_ to herself. _Baby?_ No one’s ever called Jet Girl that before, especially not while smiling across at her with sharp, white teeth. Jet Girl has seen TG rip throats out with those teeth before, and she still wants to know what they taste like, how they feel against her neck, on the soft parts of her belly… She’s beginning to think this blush will never go away, and she releases TG’s ankles so they fall to the floor, heavy combat boots thumping. 

“Thanks, TG,” she finally manages to get out as TG bounces to her feet with a jangle of the charms she keeps all about her person. TG, if Jet Girl allows herself the pun, is _charming_. And Jet Girl finds herself wanting to search for another _baby_ behind TG’s teeth, but she’s not brave enough. She’s never brave enough.

Instead, she twists her hands in front of herself as TG loops one strong arm around her neck and pulls her in to lay a smack on her cheek. “You should stop worrying, Jet Girl. It’ll make that pretty face get all wrinkly.” Jet Girl touches a hand to her cheek as TG runs off, full of boundless energy. She finds, that despite TG’s warning, her face has settled into a contemplative frown. 

***

“So is it true?” TG asks, stumbling into Jet Girl’s room like she was pushed there, although there seems to be no one outside in the corridor. The door slides shut behind TG with a whoosh, cutting off any noise so all Jet Girl can hear is TG’s breathing and the soft sound of her own fists moving against her bedsheets.

She likes this room; it’s bigger than the cockpit she used to sleep in at Water & Power, which was the one safe place against lecherous guards. There’s only her bed, and the bathroom down the hall that she shares with everyone, but her bed is warm, piled with pillows, and the narrow window lets enough light in without it being blazing.

It’s strange to have TG in here; she seems to overwhelm all the beige with her bright lipstick and blue eyes, her purple ‘Only Anarchists Are Pretty’ shirt. 

“I…is what true?” she asks, setting down the small toy engine she’s been tinkering with for one of the many children that seem to have made their way to their base.

Its wheels spin idly as TG settles herself next to Jet Girl on the bed, wiggling her butt a little, blowing a strand of blonde hair off her face. “That you like girls?”

Jet Girl goes still, even her hands. She gapes at TG for a second, lips moving without words, before she nods. She _knew_ she shouldn’t have told the kangaroos any of her secrets. “Yeah. Um. I guess.” TG’s face falls, so Jet Girl follows up with, “I mean, I _know_. I’m not lying or anything.” She can’t _believe_ that a few sips of the poisonous swill the kangaroos drink could have reduced her to someone who would let a secret like that out. “Are you…” Jet Girl twists her hands in her lap. She can make the right words pass her lips, if she tries really hard. She can ask whether maybe TG likes girls too.

“Great!” TG blows over her like usual, scooching herself even closer to Jet Girl. The grin on her face almost makes Jet Girl feel dizzy, it’s so wide. She allows herself to feel tender, bubbly hope. Maybe TG will confess…Maybe she’ll press Jet Girl down on her own bed and start taking her clothes off…Maybe TG will slide the straps of her purple tank top down her skinny, freckled shoulders and let Jet Girl kiss the soft spot where her neck slopes into her chest. “So, you wanna have dinner tonight then? I’ll even make it myself.” 

Jet Girl slumps. They have dinner _every_ night. TG usually spends it goofing off with the kangaroos, flirting with everyone and settling her heavy, booted feet into Jet Girl’s lap. Which is fun, but it’s not what she wanted. But TG blinks pretty, long lashed eyes up at her and Jet Girl is helpless to refuse. “Sure.” 

TG leaps to her feet, grinning. “I won’t disappoint ya!” she promises, running out of Jet Girl’s room. Jet Girl sits in silence for a moment, fingers still twined in the bedsheets. After a moment, she lifts a hand to her eyes. At least here, alone, no one can see her cry. 

***

TG really goes all out for dinner that night. It’s just her and Jet Girl this time. The kangaroos must be busy. TG has even made Jet Girl’s favorite meal, broccoli and leek soup with fresh parsley scattered over the top, and sweet potato noodles. It softens the blow from earlier as Jet Girl spoons delicious soup into her mouth, not waiting for it to cool. Everything’s hot in this desert anyway. 

“Do you like it?” TG asks, uncharacteristically nervous. It seems unnatural to see her constantly chattering mouth turned down.

“Yes, it’s great,” Jet Girl reassures, swallowing another spoonful to show how much she likes it. And it _is_ good. She’s not lying. She just doesn’t understand why TG is so dressed up, wearing her favorite pair of jeans, her only pair of unscuffed boots, and a lacy bra that Jet Girl’s never seen her in before. Even her helmet is polished. Maybe she’s doing something later?

“Spiffy!” TG slouches back into her chair, putting her boots up on the table before seeming to remember her manners and putting them back on the floor. Weird. Jet Girl’s never been much of one to care about manners, having been raised nearly feral herself. 

When Jet Girl spills the soup onto her lap, TG even offers her a handkerchief before snatching it back as there’s blood and snot all over it. TG’s in fine form tonight; Jet Girl hasn’t laughed this much in years, til soup’s going up her nose. And TG keeps calling her _baby_ , which makes Jet Girl’s ears turn red every time. 

Eventually, unfortunately, they have to call it a night, when Jet Girl is yawning and half slumped over her empty plate. “So, can I see you again tomorrow?” TG asks as she walks Jet Girl back to her room. The infamous wooden bat hangs loose at TG’s side. It makes Jet Girl feel safe.

“Of course,” Jet Girl answers, confused. She sees TG most days, even if it’s just a wave from whatever engine Jet Girl is buried inside. 

They stand in silence for a moment, and TG seems to be waiting for something. Jet Girl raises a brow, putting her hand on the access panel to her room. The door slides open, and TG steps back. “Okay, maybe next time.” Before Jet Girl is able to decipher that statement, TG is off like a flash. Despite herself, Jet Girl is smiling.

***

“Well, I don’t know why you’re so interested in seeing my new quilt, but I’ll let you in,” Jet Girl says the next night, laughing, as TG follows her into her room after dinner. Beer-brushed tofu skewers with barley this time, which was…something. Jet Girl can’t help but wonder where TG’s been getting all these recipes from, and why she cares enough to make them. 

It doesn’t really matter as Jet Girl sweeps her hand over the unlocking mechanism, TG leading her inside with a hand at the small of her back. “One of the grannies made it for me,” Jet Girl explains, motioning at the new, crooked quilt spread over her bed. “Says I remind her of someone she used to know.” 

She turns her back to TG as the door slides closed, and when she turns back around TG is right _there_ , watching. Her eyes are startlingly blue this close up. She smells faintly of desert and the kangaroos, who she spends most of her time with. “Baby,” she says once, softly, then pecks Jet Girl on the mouth.

Jet Girl’s hand flies to her lips, brushing over the skin there. She feels her own eyes pop wide. “T-Tank Girl?”

“God, you’re cute,” and suddenly TG’s all over her, pressing Jet Girl back onto her own bed, kneeling between her spread thighs and yanking her tank top up over her belly. Jet Girl looks down at her own pale, sloping stomach to TG, who’s examining Jet Girl’s zipper fly like it’s a particularly interesting bug. Her head swims. 

“Uh…TG…” she stutters as TG slides her zipper down and reaches inside Jet Girl’s shorts, scratching at the hair at her crotch. 

“Are these white panties? Cute.” TG leans forward, presses a kiss to Jet Girl’s belly, just over where her shorts are now gaping open. Despite herself, Jet Girl’s hips roll forward, her knees closing hard against TG’s ribs as TG hooks her arms over Jet Girl’s thighs. TG begins to move lower, her mouth sliding wetly down Jet Girl’s pelvis, biting once at the curve of her hip. Jet Girl moves without thinking, grabs TG by the back of her hair and holds her there. “Oh, so we’re gonna play rough?” TG is smiling, squeezing the fleshy insides of Jet Girl’s thighs.

“What are you _doing?_ ” 

“It’s pretty obvious, kiddo.” TG sits back on her heels, removing her hand from Jet Girl’s shorts. It feels horrible, and cold. “You…wait. Did you not get it?” Jet Girl’s not sure what TG’s talking about, but she doesn’t get anything right now, so she nods. “I’ve been dating you,” TG says, simply. She hasn’t taken her eyes off the shadow where Jet Girl’s shorts are open. There’s something hungry in her face. “For like…three days. Isn’t that enough?” She screws her face up. “I’ve never put effort into someone before.”

“I…you want me?” 

“Oh, I have all sorts of past and present predilections.”

“But I’m boring.” 

TG reels back like she’s been shot, always overdramatic. “Never!”

“I’m…uh…I’m a virgin.” Jet Girl flushes as she says it, because who’s a virgin nowadays? 

TG only grins, squirming her way closer between Jet Girl’s legs, sliding her hands back up her thighs. “That wasn’t a no.”

Jet Girl slides her glasses up her nose with one shaky finger. The thought of saying no to TG had never crossed her mind. Instead, she crosses her ankles at the small of TG’s back, heart rabbiting in her chest, and smiles. This yes must come through clear enough, because TG grins, tugging Jet Girl’s shorts down her legs. 

Then TG shrugs Jet Girl’s legs off her shoulders and surges up to give Jet Girl a firm kiss on the mouth, licking up behind her teeth as one hand squeezes Jet Girl’s hip and the other slips into Jet Girl’s white cotton underwear. Breaking the kiss and looking down to see TG’s hand in her underwear is a little surreal. TG’s hand looks too big, stretching the elastic away from Jet Girl’s skin. She gasps as TG’s fingers round her clit, slip lower to where she’s already wet. 

“Please,” she says, not even sure what she’s asking for. TG’s fingers come back up to her clit, slippery now, warm. Jet Girl goes boneless and shivery, falling back to her elbows on the bed with her legs splayed. She watches TG’s fingers move inside her underwear. TG’s grinning, kissing at the wings of Jet Girl’s pelvis, at the elastic waistband of her underwear. 

At first it’s nothing special, just pleasant friction, but then TG starts rubbing with purpose and Jet Girl’s back arches, her toes curling in her boots. “Oh…that’s…oh!” She grabs at TG’s jean jacket, messing up the fabric, unable to control herself as heat builds in her stomach. In a matter of minutes TG’s managed to coax a shaky little orgasm out of Jet Girl, holding her hips down when they spike up. 

For a moment Jet Girl thinks they’re done, until TG kisses her on the mouth again and rips her underwear off. “I’m going to fuck you til you can’t see,” she says cheerily, hiking Jet Girl’s legs over her shoulders and putting her mouth on her clit. It’s all wet pressure and friction after that; Jet Girl can feel herself gushing wetly, creaming between her thighs and barely notices the stretch as TG slides one finger in, then two.

She smears her cunt over TG’s face, feeling almost guilty about it, but TG seems thrilled. She even gives Jet Girl a thumbs up. Then her eyes narrow, her fingers curl, and Jet Girl’s vision wavers. “What…oh my _God_ what was that?” she groans, pulling TG’s face into her body. It feels almost painful, like a gut punch, but with all the pressure and none of the agony. She’s almost embarrassed about how wet she’s getting. She can hear the noises of TG’s fingers going in and out, pulling at her. 

“Tight,” TG murmurs, pulling back to suck a mark into the inside of Jet Girl’s thigh.

“S-Sorry.” TG laughs and bends her head down again, licks at her fingers where they’re going inside Jet Girl presumably just to hear her squeal and come again, surprised by it this time. TG kisses all over her thighs before she flips Jet Girl onto her stomach and goes to town, pressing those two fingers in again too fast for Jet Girl to keep track so all she can do is take it, spread her legs and get fucked like she wanted. 

Her face is pressed against the wall next to her bed, glasses half off; she’s drooling, she realizes distantly. She doesn’t care. She comes a third time with TG’s thumb pressed to her clit, the other hand two fingers deep in her cunt. The orgasms seem easier now, and deeper; she’s halfway towards a fourth as TG adds a third finger and spreads her open, licking in between Jet Girl’s thighs, her clit, her cunt. “Please fuck me, oh my… _please_ ,” Jet Girl begs, giving up all dignity to reach backwards and claw at Jet Girl’s waist. It only takes TG biting once, light, at her clit to have Jet Girl coming for the last time. 

Anymore, and she’s pretty sure her brain would fly out of her ears. As is, she’s flushed, a little teary. Strands of hair are sticking to her face. She rolls over as TG slips her fingers out and licks them, grinning. They’re shiny, and slick. The whole room smells like Jet Girl’s cunt. Jet Girl is intensely aware of her shorts around her ankles, her tank top pushed up to her breasts. She must look a mess. TG is smiling down at her, though. Her red lipstick is smeared and she’s pink, too.

“Do you want...” Jet Girl reaches for her, meaning to reciprocate, but TG pushes her hands away. Jet Girl notices that TG’s hands are soaked, and blushes further.

“For next time. Take a break.” Jet Girl needs it. She catches her breath, pulling her tank top down and searching for her underwear. They managed to find their way under the bed. She pulls them on, feeling hot and sticky between her thighs, a little sore. It’s good. After a minute TG sits herself on the bed as well, bumping shoulders with Jet Girl. “So, how was your first time?” 

Jet Girl doesn’t have words. She can only bite her lip and smile. “Great,” she finally manages to say.

“So you’d do me again?” 

“Yes!” she says immediately, maybe a little too excited. TG already has a swelled head. TG only smiles though, sweet like she sometimes is, and tangles their fingers together. 

“And we could maybe do other stuff, too. Like girlfriend stuff?”

“Definitely like girlfriend stuff,” Jet Girl says, and kisses her.

**Author's Note:**

> wouldn't it be cute if tank girl was dating jet girl but jet girl didn't know she was dating her so she got all confused when tank girl put the moves on her? fun! the movie was so cute!!


End file.
